A Promise
by jamesthestagwhore
Summary: Red hair? Freckles? You must be a Malfoy.


_Red hair? Freckles? You must be a Malfoy._

The buttery yellow light of the summer afternoon mingled together with the buttery yellow scent of beer to make the all too familiar scene of the Three Broomsticks. Rose Weasley sat bathed in the light and the scent of it all, drinking and reflecting on the fact that she was very much alone at her table.

Well, save for the hand of Scorpius Malfoy. Apparently Rose's table was the ideal object for leaning against.

She tried her best not to look like she was eavesdropping on his conversation, but she couldn't help glancing from her bottle of butterbeer to the blonde boy just feet away from her. Though she would never admit it to his face, he was remarkably handsome. Especially when he smiled.

Not the way he was smiling now though. The tense way his lips curled up as he nodded along to what the older man was saying.

"We'd love to have you on at the ministry when you finish," he said to the young Mr. Malfoy, whose smile did not brighten at this

"My father would love that too, I don't doubt," said Scorpius curtly. It was obvious that he wanted this conversation to be over.

"I should be getting back home," sighed the man. "My wife has been going on about this dinner for weeks. It's a shame you won't be there."

"Well, we're not allowed to leave during the school term."

Rose let out a small snort of laughter at this that she hoped went unnoticed.

Thankfully, the man continued as though he hadn't heard. "Right, right, of course," he said, nodding. "Still, just a few more weeks and you'll be out of schooling. Then we can get you a nice position at the Ministry."

"That'd be great."

_Foul brown nosing git,_ thought Rose.

"You don't have to look so worried," laughed the man, possibly unaware that Scorpius' face was permanently pale and worried looking. "You wouldn't have to work your way from the bottom, the Malfoy name still means something to some of us."

"Of course."

"It really is a shame that you won't be there tonight," he repeated. "I'll make sure to say hello to your father for you."

"I would appreciate that," he said dryly.

Rose made a face and took a large swig of butter beer. She couldn't be certain, but she thought that Scorpius might just have tried to catch her eye. In any case, he was looking back at the man now.

The man was going to leave, but before he did he gave Scorpius a squeeze on the shoulder and said, "You know, you remind me so much of him. Your father, that is."

Scorpius remained in his leaning position for a moment after the man left, then, very slowly, he turned and grimaced at Rose.

"You weren't by any chance eavesdropping on that little conversation were you, Weasley?" he accused.

"Of course not," she said quickly, giving a small smile.

Shaking his head, he finally removed his hand from the table and lowered himself into the seat opposite her.

"You know, you're a terrible liar," he seethed, snatching her butter beer and taking a swig from it. "Did you happen to hear what that bloke just said to me?"

"I don't know," she said. "I wasn't listening."

"He said I was just like my father."

"Actually he said you reminded him of your father," she couldn't help but correct.

"So you were eavesdropping."

"I got bored!" she defended. "After all my boyfriend did abandon me to talk to some bloke with fancy robes."

"That's fiancée thank you very much."

"I don't remember agreeing to that."

He frowned at her as he gently lifted her left hand to his lips and savoured the metallic taste from the ring he had given her.

"Oh damn! I forgot about the bloody ring," she cursed. He was supposed to laugh at that or at least give her one of those real smiles she loved so much. He didn't though. He even stopped fiddling with her fingers and simply held her hand from across the table.

"He compared me to my dad," said Scorpius sourly.

"Well we both know I can't lie, so you can trust me when I say that you're nothing like your dad."

"Thanks."

"He is far more attractive than you will ever be."

"Shut it, Weasley," he snapped, trying to hide a grin.

"Watch it, Malfoy," she said. And then, imitating the voice of the man from the ministry, she cried, "_The Malfoy name still means something to some of us!_"

"You joke, but it'll be yours soon."

"Merlin, don't remind me."

He chuckled and placed three successive kisses on her hand.

"Just you wait and see," he told her firmly. "As soon as I'm out of that bloody manor, when we've got a place of our own, I won't have to play the foul brown nosing git anymore."

"Good," she grinned. "I don't like him all that much. He cares far too much about living up to his name."

"We'll make the Malfoy name mean something else entirely. That's a promise."


End file.
